Balefire (7 page)

Chapter Eleven
 

KIRIN DROVE SILKE back to the condo and helped prop her in bed with a pillow under her leg. It was starting to swell. “I’ll return the ATV and be right back. You want anything besides water?”

“No thanks, I’ll be fine. I won’t do anything foolish.” Silke rubbed her forehead and looked out the French doors.

Kirin wanted to reassure her that she hadn’t done anything foolish, but thought she’d said enough. She drove behind the main building to the back entrance of Mark and Diane’s house. She stood at the back door, trying to decide whether to write a note or leave the keys, when the door opened. “Hi, Diane. I was just returning the keys.”

“Thanks. Did you two have some fun? I don’t often get the chance to drive the ATV, but it’s a kick isn’t it.” Diane stepped out on the deck and took the keys.

“I loved it. Thank you for letting us use it. I’m afraid it’s a lot dirtier than when borrowed it. Sorry. I didn’t see a car wash anywhere or even a hose.” Kirin pointed to her muddy legs and shorts.

“Oh, don’t even think about it. The boys usually clean it when they have to go for supplies. I’m on my way over to the restaurant. I’ll walk back with you. Where’s Silke?”

Kirin cringed, unsure what to say. She didn’t want alarm Diane. “She’s resting. While we were in town, a kid on a bike ran into her and banged up her knee a little bit.”

Diane turned around. “Are you kidding? Tell me what happened.”

Uh oh.
“It was just an accident. He wasn’t going very fast. She . . . she stepped in front of him. It wasn’t his fault. The tire just scraped the outside of her leg and it’s swollen a little.”

Diane bit her lower lip. “Damn. I knew something like this would
happen. Wait here.” She hurried back inside and returned with a small
red-and-white canvas bag. “Let’s stop at the kitchen and get some ice.”

They arrived at the condo and found Silke dozing.

“Hey sleepy head. I understand one of our reckless youth tried to mess up one of those beautiful legs of yours.” Diane unzipped the first aid kit and removed some gauze and skin cleanser.

Kirin stood quietly at the foot of the bed, holding the bag of ice.

Silke opened her eyes up and shot a look at Kirin then turned to Diane. “You didn’t need to come over. I’m fine.”

“Of course I did. You’re my dearest friend and my responsibility. Now let me do something useful for a change. Kirin would you get me a towel please?”

Diane slipped the towel under Silke’s knee and gently washed the bright red abrasion. After patting it dry, she squeezed on some antibiotic ointment. She covered that with a large, fluffy bandage and taped it in place. The ice bag fit snugly next to her leg.

“Do you want me to send Flora back with some food?”

“That isn’t necessary,” Silke said. “We ate a huge lunch, and I have food in the refrigerator. But thank you.”

Kirin walked Diane out the door and down the steps.

Diane walked her several yards then stopped. “I’m not sure I should be saying anything, but it looks like you and Silke have become good friends . . . and she needs friends. Has she shared any information about her visual problems?”

Kirin nodded, her interest piqued. “You mean about her partner?”

Diane stopped and sighed. “Yes. My dear old friend is not someone who likes to complain or ask for help, but I’m sure you figured that out. She is self-reliant and a little bit stubborn.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Ever since she told me she was coming, I wanted to make sure to keep an eye on her. And I’ll admit . . . I didn’t plan to tell her. She’d have a fit, but after what happened today, you can see why.”

Kirin thought about the accident in town and realized Diane was right—Silke wasn’t paying attention. “You’re right, she’s proud of being so self-sufficient. I wish I didn’t have to leave in a couple of days.”

Diane rubbed her arm nervously. “I didn’t mean to unload on you. I just don’t talk about it and I worry about her. You know, when she was in high school, Silke was a decent competitive swimmer. Upper body strength had always been part of her build and it continued to be important for her work as an artist especially with wood carving. She’s not used to being
disabled.” Her voiced cracked. “She’s like a sister to me but she doesn’t al
ways listen to me. She thinks I worry too much. I guess I hoped you might provide a different perspective. Maybe she’d listen to you.”

“What do you think I could tell her that would help?” Kirin had a feel
ing she was missing something.

“Maybe just that she needs more support, especially when she’s out public. I think she does all right in familiar spaces, but she isn’t used to the safety of having peripheral vision.”

“I understand, and I think you’re right,” Kirin said. “She cruises around the condo without the cane as though she has memorized the locations of everything. It’s pretty amazing. But when we were walking on the beach, I had to keep pointing out objects that were right in front of her.”

Diane nodded and smiled. “Exactly.”

“I’ll give it a try, and let you know.”

“Thanks.” Diane started down the path then turned around. “Oh, by the way. Mark suggested we talk tomorrow morning over breakfast. Would that work?”

“Perfect. Name a time.”

“Eight o’clock?”

“See you then.” Kirin watched until Diane disappeared around the main building.

Silke was lucky to have such a good friend. Kirin couldn’t think of anyone in her life who would be that concerned for her. A wave of sadness washed over her. She wondered how to frame a conversation about safety with her.

Diane was right, and the bike accident was minor compared to what could’ve happened. She remembered the chaos at the airport. Silke had asked for her help.
I wonder why.
It didn’t matter. It turned out to be a good arrangement for both of them.
 

SILKE MOVED THE ice bag a little higher. The throbbing in her knee was subsiding but it was still hard to bend.
Damn it, how could I have been so stupid?
And it wasn’t the first time. It probably wouldn’t be the last. She’d had moments of disconnectedness all her life. In grammar school, her friends told her she was ditzy. In college, it was daydreaming. But now, with her vision so limited, she needed to be careful. She just didn’t know how. Thank God, Kirin had been there.

The door opened, and she looked up. “Let me guess. Diane collared you about my carelessness.”

Kirin laughed and choked. “Were you eavesdropping?” She sat on the foot of the bed.

“I know my friend. She’s like a mother hen. I knew as soon as she found out about the run-in, there’d be hell to pay.” Silke draped her arm across her forehead.

“She’s just worried about you. You’re lucky to have a good friend like her. You probably ought to listen to her, missy.”

“I know, I do, and I appreciate your help as well. You’ve gone above and beyond the duties required of a temporary houseguest.” She pushed up straighter in the bed and sighed dramatically. “So I’m sure what you need is one more dose of Too Much Information. And if you don’t just say so.”

Kirin chuckled at the description then leaned back against the bamboo post at the foot of the bed. “No, please. I’d like to know.”

“Here’s a short version. I’ve been a little spacey all my life. I don’t know why, genetics I suppose. It’s never been a huge problem, but people
have always remarked about it. Since I lost my peripheral vision, the con
sequences for my inattentiveness are more dangerous. When I’m at home, in Milwaukee, I have a rigid routine in my studio and at the college. Other than an occasional bruised elbow or knee, I’ve been okay. If you hadn’t been here, I never would’ve gone into San Pedro by myself.”

Kirin nodded. “Okay. You seem to have a good handle on it. Can I offer a suggestion? While you’re down here, let Diane worry about you and take care of you. She loves you, and it would make her feel better.”

Silke laughed and nodded. “You’re absolutely right, and I will do as you suggest. Now, do you think you could show me your new photos and tell me a story?”

“Okay. Let me grab my laptop. But first, you mentioned the
college
?”

Silke moved the ice bag. “I teach part time at UW Milwaukee, which is only a few blocks from the house. Depending on what projects I have going on in my studio, I sometimes offer private classes.”

“And you do all that by yourself. Don’t you worry?”

“Worry about what?”

“I don’t know. Traffic, navigating around the university, that’s a pretty big campus. And I’m guessing you don’t drive.” Kirin smiled.

“Very funny,” Silke said. “I actually thought I could at one point. It wasn’t a good idea. I couldn’t even get out of the garage. It’s only a part-time job, and I walk. My studio is across the alley from our house. So it’s easy.”

Kirin stood. “I’ll get my laptop if you’re sure you want to do this. You want something to drink?”

“Yes, I’m sure, and some water would be great.” Silke slumped back and picked up the bottle of ibuprofen.

She was proud of a lifetime of self-reliance but the past year—demor
alizing. As difficult as it was to need her closest friend’s help, she’d also reached out to a stranger.
That’s a big step in letting people help me.
Asking Kirin or Diane was nothing compared to asking Rachel for any
thing. She shuddered. One more week safely away from home. She needed to make some difficult decisions. Kirin didn’t need to know this part.

“Here you go.” Kirin set the water bottle on the bedside table. “What’s the best way for you to see the screen?”

Silke grabbed two of the bed pillows and put them on her lap. “I think this is high enough.” She pulled her reading glasses from the bedside table. Kirin positioned a laptop and Silke patted the bed next to her. “Why don’t you come up here so you can tell me what I’m looking at.”

Kirin climbed on the other side of the bed and leaned against the head
board. She pushed play on the slide show.

“Oh, that’s pretty,” Silke said.

It was a wide-angle shot over the water with two small islands sur
rounded by dappled turquoise water framing the small scrap of land jutting out in the middle with nothing but stumps and tall grasses.

“A lot of these were quick shots, so I could get used to the lighting. I didn’t want to waste time with settings when we got to Placencia.” Kirin stopped speaking as though she’d lost her train of thought.

Silke could only stare stupidly at her dark brown eyes.

Kirin snapped out of it and cleared her throat. She restarted the slide
show.

Silke was able to keep up with the slides, and asked Kirin to backup
and explain one or two. The contrasts were stark. The beaches and re
sort areas, although slightly damaged, were mostly back to normal. As
they traveled deeper into the jungle where most of the devastation had oc
curred, there was no restoration yet. Small, cheaply constructed homes
lay scattered like kindling. A couple of tent communities looked like cob
bled frames covered with tarps. Small children sat huddled together on rickety wooden platforms.

“What are these?” Silke asked.

“These are some of the damaged citrus orchards. Let me find some
thing in my notes.” Kirin brushed Silke’s hand and opened another window. “This was from their newspaper archives . . . ‘Throughout Belize, the hurricane damaged thousands of homes leaving many without power. The Belize Zoo and Tropical Education Center, a major attraction for eco-tourists and Belizeans, were heavily damaged. Overall damage was nearly fifteen million US dollars, mostly from crop damage, especially to citrus
fruits. The entire grapefruit harvest was lost, an estimated twenty-five per
cent of the orange crop was lost, large trees were downed, and about two hundred homes were destroyed.’”